


Something Close to Normal

by GlitterAndDoom



Series: Silver and Gunpowder [3]
Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Community: hc_bingo, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterAndDoom/pseuds/GlitterAndDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“There are too many people out there for 'they' to only be killers. I have been looking, and I've found a few doctors...”</i> - Adam the werewolf needs to get himself back, and Sauli refuses to give up.</p><p>Set between <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/226058">Ticking Like a Bomb in a Birdcage</a> and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/217263">Silver and Time</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Close to Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to leela_cat for the beta! <3333 Written for the hc_bingo prompt "Medication."
> 
> If I screw up somewhere in coding/posting/whatever, forgive me? I have a cold _and_ haven't felt much like writing these past few months. Plus, Halloween's about to end, and NaNoWriMo's about to begin... D:

There's no cure for this, he knows, but Adam swallows the pills anyway.

“It's just like any other disease,” the doctor told him. “It can be dealt with.”

Any other disease. Right. Adam rolls his eyes, then chases the little black pills with a long swallow from his overheated water bottle. Summer struck with a vengeance, and fighting the pull of the distant moon got harder and harder as temperatures rose and his temper flared hotter. Secrecy be damned―something had to be done.

“I know you don't think so,” Sauli says, swinging into the driver's seat and buckling himself in, “but this will help.”

“Right.” His voice comes out raspy, and he winces. The smooth pills seem to have scratched his throat somehow, and they feel heavy in his stomach, painful and large in spite of their size. Maybe they're already trying to work. Maybe not. He forces a smile, even as he presses a hand against his belly and takes another drink. “I'm glad you believe it.”

“I do.” Sauli leans over and kisses his cheek, and some of the tightness in Adam's muscles lets go, finally. “When you don't believe, I believe for you.”

This time, Adam's smile is real.

 

What they don't tell you when you're bitten by a werewolf is how much it controls your life. There really is a reason they call it a curse, Adam often thinks, as he paces the floor day and night, night and day. The moon is an ever-present itch, boiling beneath his skin, trying to pull him closer, higher, deeper. No matter if it's full and bright or a void of black or overshadowed by the burning days, it's there. He always knows where it is, how full it is, how bright behind the clouds or what time of night it shines. How much it longs for him and him for it. How much it calls his name and makes the sun hate him. He always knows.

“The lore's wrong about daylight and werewolves,” Adam says, as Sauli smears another thick coat of sunscreen over his skin. “We fucking _burn._ ” It comes out as a whine, and Sauli chuckles, but Adam is serious. He often lived at night before, but he's a creature of the night now, and it's different. No matter how much he loves the warmth, the brightness, the beauty, it fucking hurts sometimes, and the cool relief of sundown is almost as strong as the moon. “I'm not kidding.”

No, nothing is as strong as the moon. And “just like any other disease” is bullshit.

“You've always burned.” Sauli traces the freckles on Adam's arm and smiles sweetly, and Adam smiles back. He can never argue with that smile.

The pills help more than they hurt, and he's feeling good today, for once. He lies on his back in the warm water and closes his eyes, basking in the daylight, and the sun doesn't burn as much. It feels _amazing,_ and he can forget the wolf.

Letting out a happy sigh, he lets himself float, lets himself _be._ He can almost call himself Adam again, he thinks. Almost.  
Then, the peace is shattered by sneaky hands and arms grabbing around his waist and a laughing blond imp claiming his lips in a kiss. Adam laughs, too, and kisses Sauli back, letting his hands stroke and squeeze the taut curve of Sauli's ass, swallowing Sauli's gasps and moans. Something close to normal is better than nothing at all, he thinks, now that he can love again.

 

The first transformation was the easiest. And the hardest. He'd gone in with a whole mind but lost part of it then, he thought. No, he _knew._ When his aching muscles had calmed and the turmoil in his head had died down, he'd been different. And he got worse.

“Stay the fuck away from me,” he growled one night, panting hard, fighting not to do more than throw a vase across the room. It was stupid, so fucking stupid, and still he'd gone off for the third/twentieth/thousandth time that week. That month's Change had been a rough one, and mornings after were always hell, but that was never an excuse. “There's _nothing!_ Just _go!_ ”

Sauli stared down at the shattered glass, the water, the broken purple roses, then back at Adam, hurt in his eyes. Adam couldn't look. He spun away, and hid his face against the wall. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry. I don't...”

“Adam?”

Adam let out a helpless cry, unable to hold back tears. “This isn't me,” he said, and turned to look at Sauli, twisting the ring on his finger. “You know this isn't―”

“I know.” Sauli took a step forward, and Adam jerked back against the wall. “I know how this works. And what will help.”

“You should go.” He wiped his eyes with shaking hands and tried to move further away as Sauli came closer. “You shouldn't―”

“There is something we can do,” Sauli insisted, and Adam clenched his eyes closed as Sauli reached out.

“There's nothing. I'm―”

“Already giving up?” Sauli tutted. “No, you are not you at all.” Sauli's hand brushed against his cheek, touch featherlight, and Adam let out a breath.

“They don't help werewolves.” He forced open his eyes, hoping to make Sauli understand, hoping Sauli would give up already. “They kill them.”

Shaking his head, Sauli moved in closer and lowered his hand to Adam's chest. “There are too many people out there for 'they' to only be killers. I have been looking, and I've found a few doctors...”

But Sauli never gave up on anything, did he? Tenacious fucker. With a grateful sob, Adam flung his arms around Sauli, then buried his face in the curve of his shoulder.

“I love you,” Sauli said, and began stroking his back. “It won't be perfect, but we can get 'us' back. Do you want?”

“Oh, God.” Adam pulled him even tighter. “Please.”

“There are medications...”

 

Two pills, twice a day. Midnight, noon―no earlier, no later. The curse, the wolf, his body―Adam isn't sure―does not like them at first. His throat burns with every dose, his guts twist and cramp, his nerves spark, his muscles and bones and joints ache. They make him feel like shit, but at least it's _human_ shit, and for that alone, he understands why some call the precious pills “black pearls.”

“It's worth it,” he says to himself, collapsing on his blissfully soft bed, savoring the brush of cool cotton over his feverish skin. He's so tired, so weak, so dizzy and achy and sick, but for the first time in months, his mind is clear and _his._

When the side effects hit full-force, he told the team he had the flu and curled up in bed. Soon, Sauli lied to them as well and climbed in beside him, bringing tea for his throat and stomach and a movie for them both.

“I hate it,” Sauli says, his eyes sad as he runs his fingers through Adam's too-long hair. Adam leans into the touch, craving the affection he couldn't accept when he didn't trust his mind. “That you feel like this.”

“I don't,” Adam rasps. “It's helping.”

Sauli smiles and cuddles in close, wrapping Adam in his arms. Adam sighs, content, and snuggles in tighter, warm and happy even though he hurts. They can do things again, and it's a heady sort of power, light and bright and freeing. They can be them.

As the couple onscreen kisses beneath a full moon, Adam says, “Maybe we can go out some night,” and knows Sauli knows what he means. For once, the sight doesn't tug at his chest. “I miss it.”

“Okay,” Sauli says, and kisses his temple. “Okay.”

For now, the monsters are quiet. Anything is possible.


End file.
